Paw Patrol: Tails From The Void- Launch
Paw Patrol: Tails From The Void, and all its chapters, is a collab series owned by ZeroOfHearts and Shado Supreme "Do you, Zachary Ryder, promise to help those in need, by whatever means possible?" "I do," replied the eighteen year old boy with spiky black hair. "Do you, Zachary Ryder, promise to uphold this oath, even at the cost of your own life?" asked an older man, Ryder's superior officer. "I do." "Hold out your hand." A holographic screen materialized between them. Ryder held out is hand, as a blue light strobed over his fingers. An exact replica of his handprint was then copied to the contract in front of him. "Sign it." Ryder dragged his finger through the air, writing his signature in holographic light as the computer tracked his movements. That too was copied to the contract. Ryder smiled. This job demanded no one but the best. Proof that he, out of a class of 50, had been the only graduate was proof of that. It had been a long and brutal 5 years of training but had done it. He was finally here. "It is done," informed his officer, the holographic contract being whisked away to the pinter on the wall, where it would shortly become physical paper. The area around the station became a busy hustle as spectators became workers, the young boy watching proudly, knowing that he will soon be working where no other person dared. The great vacuum of space. "This way sir, I will introduce you to your crew, " a younger man escorted him. Ryder entered a vast room seemingly split into six sections by walls that were almost invisible. In each section, a specific layout of equipment and an anthropomorphic dog was working in. "I will leave you to the introductions and formalities," the young man commented while leaving the room. One of the dogs, a German Shepherd flicked his ear, catching the exchange. He whirled around, stamped his foot twice, and called out, "Commander on deck!" All the other canines stopped what they were doing as well. With practiced authority, Ryder gave the command, "Roll call!" The six dogs lined up, and the German Shepherd stepped forward, pawss held behind his back. "Chase, Enforcer Class, unit designation 02. Ready for action, sir!" All of the dogs were wearing skin-tight jumpsuits, colored black, but with a single color lines tracing their general proportions. Chase's suit had blue lines, and displayed his full musculature. Nothing Herculean, but enough to put an ordinary man to shame. Chase stepped back, and a Dalmatian in a suit with red lines stepped up. As opposed to Chase's straight posture, this canine was slightly slouched, with a slightly uneasy look on his face. "Uh, Marshall, EMT and firefighter... uh, sir." "That's 'Trauma Class, unit designation 03'," interjected Chase, with an unamused tone. "That makes it sound like I cause trauma!" complained Marshall. "You do," snarked a massive English Bulldog. Marshall hung his head as the other pups chuckled, and Chase elicited a snort. The next member of the team, a slender, but still strong, Cockapoo stood at attention. Her suit contained pink highlights, and her countenance was joyful and enthusiastic. "Skye, Pilot Class, and ready to fly, ruff! Oh, designation 04." "Rocky, Cyber Class, unit 05," calmly stated the gray Mix-Breed who was next in line. His suit had green highlights, and his left arm was completely robotic. "Rubble at the ready, chief!" bellowed the massive Bulldog. He was even larger than Chase. "Class and designation, Rubble," chided Chase. "Uh, righto. Engineering 06." "HazCon, 07," stated a Chocolate Labrador, last in line. His face was confident, but Ryder heard weariness in his voice. "Name?" inquired the human. The dog waved his paw in dismissal. "Don't bother. I probably won't be around long." "Pardon Zuma, sir," explained Skye, "As I'm sure you know, the life expectancy for HazCon Class is... not high." Ryder nodded solemnly, before introducing himself. "Ryder, Command Class. Unit 01." "The most important person here," mumbled Rocky. "What was that?" demanded Chase. "Nothing," replied the Cyber Class. The crew looked around them as speakers sounded, initiating an upcoming launch. "We'll explain later. We should get going," Chase advised. Ryder nodded. The band headed off to the mission report station. When they entered, the whole area was full with several different stations being manned by officers with several different set-ups on each screen around the room. This was the Project Paw Patrol Central Command. From here, dozens of Paw Patrols in dozens of systems were monitored. Soon, Ryder and his team would be joining the ranks. The older man who had sworn Ryder into position was standing on a central podium, overlooking the whole operation. He turned to look back at them with a faint smile of approval on his face. Stepping down from the podium, he addressed the team of seven. "There are only two more things to discuss. One," he took a what seemed to be an iPhone from a pocket in his red and blue vest, and handed it to Ryder, "This is your Paw-Pad. It is allows for direct communications to your subordinates via their neural implants, provides tracking of said implants, monitors your subordinates life-signs, and contains an... electroshock trigger, should any of them step out of line." Ryder noticed the commander briefly glare at Rocky. He took the pad, and briefly inspected it's various apps. He frowned when he found the electroshock could be set to "Lethal". "Are such... extreme measures, really necessary?" "This line of work demands no mistakes, and no dissent. While I hope you will never have to use that button, you must be prepared to help those in need, by whatever means possible. So must your team." "Understood, sir. Second item?" The commander smiled and rubbed his hands together. The older man had gone through this process many times before, and this was clearly his favorite part. "Follow me to the launch pad." It was a rather short walk; down a hall, turn the corner, into an elevator, up to the top of the building. When they emerged from the elevator, Ryder admired the view. Central Command was located inside a plateau is Arizona. Given the fact that Ryder was about to receive a spaceship, this was likely to be the last view he would ever receive of Earth. "OOOoooohh, we're gonna get a spaceship, aren't we?" asked Skye, bouncing on her feet, "Spaceship, spaceship, spaceship..." "Indeed you are, 04. Paw Patrol #273..." The commander pressed a button on his own Paw-Pad. With a loud clank, the rooftop in front of them began to part and slide away, and an elevator brought to the surface... "Say hello to your Paw Patroller." Everyone stood back, mouths agape in awe. It was about three times the size of a semi-truck with a trailer attached, colored in white, with red and blue lines running from the prow to the stern. It had three large engines on the back, with numerous ball-jointed thrusters sticking out at various points in the hull, to help with finer maneuvering. It wasn't exactly... pretty, like some of the bedazzled space-yachts Ryder had seen on Holovids, but it had a rugged, hexagonal, functionality to it. "It's... incredible, sir..." was all the young man could say. "Can we go inside? Pleeeaaassse?" begged Skye, attempting to use the ages-old "puppy dog eyes" technique. "Whenever your commander is ready. You have a few hours before your scheduled departure for the Wormhole Gate at Earth-Moon Lagrange 1. Ryder... good luck." With that, the commander departed. Ryder turned back to his patrol- and Skye's pleading gaze. "Let's head inside, shall we?" "YES!" Skye did a double fist pump and let out a few yips of enjoyment as the ramp lowered and she dashed inside. Ryder was pretty sure he heard a soft chuckle from Chase, but the Enforcer's expression betrayed nothing. ___ Rocky whistled as his right paw traced over the sleek curvature of his Reconfigurable Tactical Response Vehicle- RTRV for short. Stored within the massive hangar bay of the Paw Patroller- Rocky quickly noted this meant the living quarters would be quite close- each pup possessed a specialized RTRV, that could be re-equipped on the spot for missions on sea, land, air, and space. Rocky's own vehicle possessed a massive computer rig, befitting his role as a cyber-specialist. A role he had no choice in, he reflected, grimacing as he looked at his mechanical arm. "Hey... Rocky?" Rocky's enhanced neural implants kicked in instantly, analyzing the direction of the question, the tone of voice, who the voice belonged to, constructing approximately 32 ideal responses, and what facial expression his muzzle should display in to appear the most friendly- all within the time it the mix-breed to blink. "Yes, Marshall?" he replied, aloofly. He wasn't particularly close with any of his teammates, but his cogitation centers dictated that remaining on friendly terms with them was a beneficial course of action. "What's... a Lagrange point?" Rocky internally rolled his eyes, while his memory implants pulled up every piece of data he had, then organized them by relevance and simplicity. "A Lagrangian point is a place between two centers of gravity such that they cancel each other out, meaning you will neither begin drifting to one, nor the other. It is a prime position for extra-planetary constructs, such as Wormhole Gates and space stations." "Oh." "Anything else I can help you with?" "Well... I did just kinda lock my keys in my car..." Rocky shut down his urges to sigh, and instead simply advised, "That seems more Rubble's domain." The Cyber class waved a good bye to the Dalmatian, and headed off to inspect the rest of the ship. The Trauma class appeared to read Rocky's mind, heading in the direction of Rubble who was snoozing within his own RTRV. "Rubble? Um..." The dalmatian blushed rethinking about how humiliating his question is. The light sleeping bulldog yawned and sat up. "What's up Marshall?" = "I kinda...locked my keys in my car..." = "What? I didn't hear you." "I locked my keys in my car! Can you help?" "Oh, why didn't you say so? Sure." Meanwhile, the Pilot class was truly ecstatic as she jumped around and was amazed at all the equipment that she specialised in. "Skye, calm down, please. We must stay calm in order to stay safe and active for our commander." A strong stern voice commanded her. "Chase! Live a little! This is what we've been training for since we were little pups!" The cockapoo jumped down from her RTRV and gave a friendly lick to the German Shepherd's cheek. The normally taciturn German Shepherd blushed, and promptly retreated inside his own RTRV. "What's up with Chase?" Ryder appeared. "Oh, his training just didn't include talking to girls," replied Skye with a smirk. "That, and Mr. Serious is cute when he gets flustered," she finished, careful to speak loudly enough that Chase would surely hear. The door to Chase's RTRV shut with a loud clank. "I hope this won't cause any problems in the field, 04," stated Ryder, firmly but casually. "Of course not, sir," replied the pilot in a much more formal tone, "But we're not machines. We have emotions... and we deserve the right to exercise them when off duty. I think that's something the training instructors forgot..." "How so?" Ryder cocked his head in curiosity. "Live fire drills, sir. 'Nuff said," Skye suddenly looked very solemn in comparison to her usual self. "May I go inspect the Paw Patroller bridge, sir?" "Permission granted." As Skye left, Ryder surveyed the scene. Rubble was reattaching the door he had ripped off to help Marshall get his keys back, Chase was still in his RTRV- most likely going over a checklist to distract himself from Skye- which left only Rocky and Zuma unaccounted for. A quick look at the Paw-Pad's tracking program found them both in the living quarters in the upper deck, towards the middle of the ship. Ryder decided to pay them a visit. ___ "-at shall we do, with drunk-en whale-er, what shall we do with the drunk-en whale-er, what shall we do with the drunk-en whale-er, throw him in the-'''" "Can you '''stop singing that?" asked Rocky, exasperatedly. "Why?" "Because it's repetitive. It goes, nowhere... But that's why you like it, isn't it?" "Yep," replied the Labrador, who was sitting in his small bunk, whittling a sailing ship out of a wooden block, "That, and I've always liked the sea. The... original space, if you will. Humans have stories of danger and epic beasts out in it, of breaking hardship, and indomitable resolve-" "I know." "I like to think, that, in a different life, I could've been a sailor..." "This isn't a 'life'. Every 'Hyper Animal' is made with a purpose," Rocky growled, "One that we don't get to pick, and usually aren't likely to survive." "I know," now it was Zuma's turn. "Then you realize this isn't fair." "I don't think we get to decide what's fair, and what ain't." "No, of course not. It's our infallible creators and the electroshock implants they put in our-" "Rocky, Zuma!" greeted Ryder as he strode into the room. He shot a glare at Rocky, and the Cyber class inwardly cursed. "Whatcha doin'?" "... I was accessing the ship's computers for information on our assignment, Ryder." Rocky help up his mechanical Paw. The fingertips split open, revealing dozens of tiny filaments. Rocky touched the wall, and hundreds of bytes of information streamed through his brain until he found what he needed. "The location assigned to us is the Decouverte System. It consists of four planets; Harth, Tavin, Aceline and Vattu, all orbiting one main star, Azure, with several large space stations in Lagrange points around Harth, Tavin and Aceline. Our destination upon departure will be a stealth wormhole gate over Vattu." "Thanks Rocky. Anything else you would like to discuss?" "...No sir. "Alright then. We'd better get ready for launch." Rocky and Zuma followed Ryder to the bridge. ___ Ryder had grown up watching Star Trek and Star Wars, with their wide, spacious command decks, where a super officer could simply stand and observe while his subordinates worked in stations below him. Turns out real life was slightly different; the bridge was a small, cramped thing with barely enough room for 4 seats, and most definitely no room to stretch one's legs. No windows, either. Glass was far too weak to include in a rescue ops ship. The four seats corresponded to four stations: Skye's was the pilot seat, Chase manned the onboard weapons system, Rocky monitored communications, subsystems and damage, and Ryder's seat was attached to a little track in the floor, allowing him to swivel around to the different tasks. Rubble was back in the ship's engine room, to handle fine-tuning and repairs, Marshall was on permanent call in the medical bay, and Zuma was to stay in his RTRV for instant deployment, if necessary. Skye strapped in the pilot seat in front of Ryder. "Everyone buckled up?" Five responses came through his headset at once. "04, initiate launch sequence, please." "Aye, sir. Powering on engines." "All systems green, 05?" "All systems green, 01." "Paw Patroller 273, this is flight control. You are cleared for lift off." "Roger, flight control." "Initiating lift off in T-10. 9. 8. 7. 6. 5. 4. 3. 2. 1." There was a series of clicks as she flicked the switches to begin the launch. The ship's engines revved as it pushed itself off the ground, and began the steady climb out of the atmosphere. The Paw Patroller rocked as it zoomed out of the ozone layer and into the Earth's orbit. "Where-to Ryder?" inquired the Cockapoo, eyes still fixed on the display screens and buttons in front of her. "Set a course for the wormhole gate at Earth-Moon L1." "Aye sir." Skye typed in the coordinates, and made sure everything was working properly. "ETA is about a day, sir." Ryder sighed. Even with the recent advances in engine technology and even rudimentary artificial gravity, space travel still took a while, though considerably less than when the first Apollo space missions were launched. "Permission to speak, sir," asked Rocky. "You don't need to ask that, but granted." "This ship is equipped with an experimental Warp Drive. By my calculations, it would cut our travel time by 75%." "Your forgetting that is only supposed to be used in emergencies, and definitely not near any area capable of detecting it. Top Secret technology, remember?" "...of course, sir. My m... m-mistake." "Well, guess we can get some shut-eye then," Ryder declared, undoing his seat harness, and found himself floating. "Rocky, please activate the grav-pads in the personal quarters, and inform the rest of the crew they may retire for the duration of the trip." "Yessir." Ryder floated out of the room, pulling himself along the strategically placed handholds littering the ship's interior. Artificial gravity could of course be activated ship-wide, but each grav-pad drained so much power it would deplete the ship within a matter of minutes. Arriving in the personal quarters, Ryder immediately dropped to the floor, before locating his sleeping bag-esque bed, which doubled as an escape pod, strapping himself in so he wouldn't fall out when the gravity turned off, and settled into a nap with a smile on his face. It had been a good day. ''To be continued...''Category:Fanon Episodes Category:Episodes